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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931850">Blessed Solitude</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancy_Dragonqueen/pseuds/Fancy_Dragonqueen'>Fancy_Dragonqueen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bathing/Washing, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Established Mick Rory/Leonard Snart, Hurt Leonard Snart, Jealousy, M/M, Making Up, POV Mick Rory, Protective Mick Rory, Quarantine, cursing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:08:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23931850</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancy_Dragonqueen/pseuds/Fancy_Dragonqueen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a fight with Snart, Mick is almost happy about the quarantine.</p><p>He didn't count on finding said menace to be unconscious in a safe house the guy would never willingly set a foot in it.</p><p>And now he even touched him. Oh boy. Seems as if they're gonna be stuck together for the amount of time this quarantine lasts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mick Rory/Leonard Snart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Arrowverse Under Quarantine</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blessed Solitude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraYoung/gifts">TerraYoung</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I really hope you like it :)<br/>Sorry for all the questions I asked!!! But not knowing the no's and go's and everything is really driving me crazy :-P<br/>&lt;3 Thank you for your patience!</p><p> </p><p>Thank you so much for the lovely <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/blueelvewithwings">blueelvewithwings</a> that beta'd the fic and helped me with Mick and the tags and everything!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Most people hated the quarantine. Cursed to be stuck in one place on their own or with the same people the whole time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For Mick, the quarantine couldn’t have come at a better time. He and Len had been in a fight. Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. Just them being. Well. Them. To be fair, he didn’t even know what started the fight exactly. They just couldn’t be on the same spot with nothing to do for a long time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick was on his way to Safehouse Four, a nice one near the docks. It was quiet, well-stocked, and had something his own place didn’t right now: a functional typewriter. There was also a fireplace and even an old bathtub. (Even if it was too small for either of them to lay in it whole.) It was furthermore a safehouse Len despised and only used when he couldn’t use anything else. Like literally couldn’t use anything else. He once even crashed in an hour hotel to not have to sleep there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a thing Mick couldn’t understand, but it turned out to be in his favor. It was impossible to meet Len before the quarantine was over. Even if they did commit crimes, they were not dumb enough to not listen to the government when it came to not spreading a worldwide disease. And with the whole thing going on for way longer than they told people right now, possibly not to put them into panic mode, this safehouse was perfect.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Peace and quiet and all the time to write some more. Without dumb puns and lazy demands to be entertained. A bored Len was a menace. Not that he wanted to think about him right now. He was still mostly pissed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Carrying two bags of fresh fruits and vegetables, together with the same amount of vegetables just frozen, he entered the safehouse. There was a big fridge, and once he didn’t have any fresh things anymore, he would take the frozen ones. Just as good in vitamins but different in taste. Mick smirked when he thought about what a fit Len would throw. How the guy had survived on frozen food and bread was a mystery to Mick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Switching on the lights, he cursed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The safehouse was a mess. Things had been thrown down as if someone had thrashed against it. It didn’t look as if someone had searched for something. There was blood on the floor. Not enough to be worrisome that he needed to get rid of a dead body (even though he would have smelled that as well) but enough to know that someone might still be here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quietly he set the bags down onto the floor, sneaking into the next room, the living room, hand on his heat gun that, of course, he couldn’t have left behind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Indeed there was someone in the safehouse. In the living room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick cursed more loudly this time. Instantly recognizing his partners’ shoes, the tight jeans and the freaking parka. Sometimes he wondered if Len loved his parka more than Mick. (Which was a dumb thing to be. Jealous of a piece of fabric.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A quick check confirmed that they were alone. A bloody handprint on the table nearby confirmed Mick’s thought that Len had dragged himself here when he got injured. Quickly he knelt beside Len, checking his pulse first. Mick sighed relieved when he found his heartbeat strong and steady underneath his fingers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he took the time to look him over. There were dark circles underneath Len’s eyes, dried blood on his forehead, matting his buzz cut dark. The wound had already stopped bleeding, but was worrisome nonetheless, especially when Mick turned him onto his back and saw the gigantic shiner and split lip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t leave you alone for even a second, can I?” He growled. “Always jumping into the next fight, the next problem.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Len didn’t wake, just murmured something, frowning slightly in what Mick hoped wasa deep sleep that would help him heal. He sighed and gathered the man in his arms, frowning again when he recognized how light he’d become. They hadn’t seen each other for the last two weeks and Len was always bad at caring for himself, especially when they’d fought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Len whined quietly in his sleep, turning to bury his face in Mick’s shirt, rubbing his nose in the fabric and inhaling his scent. He relaxed slightly, nothing someone else would have noticed. Mick carefully got rid of the parka, then the long sleeved shirt. There were several more bruises, all in the beginning stages of healing. Mick wondered if Len had come here right after the fight with whomever had hit him like that or if he’d gone out more than once.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not that he cared. He was still angry damnit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite trying to stay furious, he let his eyes roam over Len’s body, taking in the ribs he could see. Damn guy couldn’t look after himself for a bit. Now that they were together and Mick had touched him they would need to stay in the safehouse. Contamination and all of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not because he wanted to make sure that the damn idiot didn’t have a concussion. Or worse. And of course not because he wanted to make sure he got more sleep and some proper food.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Touching the bruises and ribs resulted in more whining and Len trying to wriggle free with Mick having none of that. It was a wonder Len slept through it, but it showed Mick that he indeed needed to be a bit concerned as Len would have normally woken from the first touch of another person. Then again he always seemed to know when it was Mick that was touching him and then Len could sleep through a bombing (Or at least an ambush of Santini men) when they were together. It also, of course, didn’t warm his heart that Len’s trust in him was unwavering even after they’d threatened each other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After making sure Len wouldn’t die on him, Mick made a detour to put the frozen vegetables into the fridge. Seemed as if sometime they would need to go out to stock up on groceries again, now that they were two of them. He could already hear Len throwing a fit over being made to eat vegetables but Mick didn’t care. They were stuck together now. Whether they liked it or not.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a frown he turned to look into the living room, trying to suppress the happy feeling that he knew exactly where Len was. That he could take care of his living disaster and that he knew exactly when Len got sick and would be able to care for him. Len was good at taking care of others but horribly incapable when it came to himself. Softly sighing he sat down next to where Len had curled into himself, watching him sleep for a little bit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was interesting and at the same time sad, how Len curled and made himself as small as possible when he was sad, hurt or sick (or sometimes when he really craved cuddles and wasn’t able to ask for them), while at other times when he was happy, glad or satisfied with whatever he’d planned went right, he was the worst starfish in history. Sometimes he even kicked Mick out of bed when he was sleeping really deeply… He even snored sometimes which was indeed funny because it sounded like a kitten wheeze and he blushed and got weirdly defensive over a thing he couldn’t take charge of.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He always knew he was damned when he saved the scrawny ass of this scrawny kid all those years ago, causing him to follow him around and even steal him a lighter. He should have noped out of the whole thing when he still could. Now that his heart was already stolen it was too late.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With another sigh and a slightly less angry look on his face he poked Len into the side. Careful. He was pretty glad he didn’t wake him like usual when he heard the pained groan and how his partner froze, before opening his eyes slowly. It took a bit and it was unfocused at first, making Mick wonder if he needed to bring Len to a doctor or worst case to STAR Labs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mick?” Disbelief. For a second they stared at each other before Len relaxed and closed his eyes for a second. He opened them again, without problems this time, his eyes clear and focused now. He still winced because of the light.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...You reek.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Len’s face scrunched up and Mick watched him turning his head slightly to sniff a bit, only to pout. He couldn’t deny that Mick had a point..</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on. I’m pouring you a bath.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tub’s not big enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s big enough to get your scrawny ass in it.” He answered gruffly and pushed down his worry when Len got up with a wince but no further complaints. Either he was really, really tired or the injuries were worse than Mick had first thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hoped for the former</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Len was unnaturally quiet the whole way up the stairs, but he bumped into Mick’s shoulder softly, then walked straight again. Could be a silent thank you, could also be him being too weak to walk the whole way. Mick wouldn’t know, not with Len not bitching like he usually did when he was injured.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick didn’t react to the contact, just kept walking. If Len had to say something to him, he should do it with words like a big boy and not like a child that didn’t know how to apologize.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was still angry, Mick tried to remind himself, trying not to listen to the ragged and tired breathing. To the little winces and hitched breaths whenever Len took a step.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They took longer than they normally would, with Mick walking slowly and Len following him. Len sat down on the toilet seat, his eyes closed and leaning against the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick couldn’t help but worry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Filling the bathtub proved to be agonizingly slow, leaving them both in strained silence. Neither one to back down or apologize. Mick knew at least that it hadn’t been his fault this time. That it hadn’t been him to snap and snarl at everything moving and unmoving, even Len’s own sister. Lisa had flipped him the bird and gone on vacation, declaring that she was an adult and could make her own decision. Girl sure had some balls on her, Mick would give her that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The mood had only gotten worse from that point on, driving both of them up the walls. Mick wasn’t one to keep still, not wanting to be kept quiet and obedient.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick should have gone with her, before it had come to actual blows. Verbal ones this time, not physical. The first sign that Len wasn’t only anxious because they were laying low, but because his beautiful, stupid brain was thinking too much. People thought Len kept MIck around for the brawls, yet he kept him around because not only were they loyal to each other, no. They kept each other on their toes, could read the significant other like no one else would.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were a well oiled machine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Normally.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick could feel Len watching him through half-lidded eyes. Mick didn’t want to have any of that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Strip.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He barked, eyes widening in surprise when Len followed without his usual bitching every time they were mad at each other. With a frown his eyes roamed Len’s body, taking in every wince, every whine. Len licked his lips, nothing seductive in it, more to wetten the dried and split skin. Mick refused to ask when he’d last drunk something. (Probably not enough either way. That guy was so bad at adulting, no one would believe Mick.) It took Len a while to take off his shoes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Neither of them had any problems to be undressed in front of the other. Not after juvie, not after jail, especially not after being in a relationship for that long.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Normally Len would stare him down, right into his eyes with a defensive cold stare. He always did when he was injured. This time though there were other rules. They tried to get out of the other's hair when they were fighting. Hiding their injuries, licking their wounds like animals, alone, scared and angry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Instead Len was averting his eyes, head to the side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were bruises over his right side which he could see way better now in the light. Deep and ugly. Harscher on his light skin. Mick frowned at the rips he could see, mocking him under injured skin.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted to shake Len and ask what the heck he’d been thinking, eating so badly, running into a fight he obviously couldn’t have won.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick wanted to yell but instead he sighed, all fight gone out of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If he’d been honest with himself, he’d acknowledge that he hadn’t been angry, really angry, at Len since he’d found him lying unconscious in the living room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Probably not even during their whole fight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Need help gettin' in or you gonna do this alone?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Len tried, he really did. Instead he lost balance, trying to get rid of his trousers and fell right into Mick’s waiting arms. Mick sighed again, dragging Len a bit closer who hid his face in Mick’s neck, breathing harshly. He carefully held on to him and helped him out of his pants, before lowering him into the bathtub.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Len whined quietly, leaning heavily onto Mick. He still didn’t say anything and that was worrying. Mick knew he needed to give him time, needed to wait for Len to openly talk with him on his own. He wasn’t the best with emotions, neither of them were but Len was a bit worse when it came to talking about feelings and that’s what obviously bothered him. Else he would have talked with Mick since he found him and gained back consciousness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Come on. it’s warm. I’ll get you some ice for the bruises later, promise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Taking a sponge into his hand he slowly started to wash Len, who leaned back into the tub, closing his eyes and relaxing into the touch. His breathing was still a bit strained but he seemed a bit more at ease. Concerned about the injuries he hadn’t even looked at how tense Len had been,but now he could see him relaxing, his muscles losing a lot of the tension they had been holding .</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick took his time, noting where Len showed signs that he was injured and went on more tenderly, to not aggravate the wounds any more. Thankfully there were no open wounds and from his place he could see where his head had been hit. There was still blood in his hair that was already longer than Len normally liked it, but it didn’t look like it would open up again. Head wounds always bled too much, same with hands and feet. Mick hated it when Len’s fingers were hurt. Thankfully there were only bruises and a bit of blood, nothing serious on them. Mick had checked earlier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I need to wash your hair,” he warned and waited for a slight hum of his partner before wetting the sponge again and wetting his hair, careful of the slight cut. “Where did you get this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Table.” It sounded unsure. Mick frowned. Maybe the concussion was worse than he’d thought first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick let it slide. The way Len had closed his eyes and were squinting whenever he needed to open it, showing signs that the light hurt him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Close your eyes if you don’t wanna get shampoo in it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A lie. Both of them knew it. Mick was good at washing hair without hurting him or letting water into his face. Len was like a cat in that department (and others). He hated water in his face if he didn’t do it himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despise the obvious pain he was in, Len managed to nod off, which urged  Mick to hurry up. The water drained faster than it filled up and left Len asleep but shivering. He didn’t wake up as he was too exhausted. Also a sign that he wasn’t only hurt but trusting Mick. Trusting Mick to do the right thing and care for him. Which he did. Toweling him off as far as he could without waking him up proved to be a struggle. Len woke up again when Mick tried to dry his back, slowly lifting his arms to lay them around Mick’s neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Len nodded as an answer and hid his face again, the idiot. It still made Mick smile, now that Len couldn’t see his face. He could think a little bit longer that Mick was still angry at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Throwing the towel over Len, Mick easily grabbed him to carry Len into the bedroom bridal style.He was Way too light for Mick’s taste.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The bedroom was tidy and had a bed big enough for both of them to easily fit in. There were enough blankets to please the Ice Queen if he ever decided to stay. Which he needed to do now, that they were quarantined together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Len didn’t complain when his back hit the bed, but he hissed softly, snuggling right back into the cold sheets. Mick rolled his eyes and opened a drawer and took out more blankets that  he carefully draped over Len who watched him sleepily.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick leaned down to tuck Len in quite firmly not wanting to have him rolling around in his sleep and worsening his side or rolling from the bed, Which had happened only once but would never be forgotten.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stay still, I’ll be back soon. Gotta get some ice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick wasn’t able to move a second later, somehow Len had managed to sneak out his arms like the world's fastest snake, giving the Flash a run for his money with the speed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t go if you hold my arm.” He gruffed and looked pointedly at Len’s fingers, tightly tangled  in his sleeve. Len’s hold on him was very weak, Mick could easily break out of it but the look in Len’s eyes made him reconsider.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“... stay.” Len whispered almost too quiet to hear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The things you did when you liked someone pretty much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Gotta let go that I can change out of the clothes. They are wet.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They didn’t need both of them to be sick. Len was already injured and didn’t need another strain on his health. Not with him getting easily sick with colds and the flu. Mick didn’t dare to think what would happen if it got worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick could </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear</span>
  </em>
  <span> the gears in Len’s head turning and rolled his eyes quite openly at his partner.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I won’t run. Now let go.” With that he shrugged off the fingers that hastily retreated underneath the blankets. Good.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With ease he got rid of his clothes, leaving him in his boxers to slide underneath the blankets. Turning a bit in bed he reached for the lightswitch he had installed above the headrest. He didn’t want for Len to get up in the night because he couldn’t sleep with it off. And then come back with his icy, frozen ice cubes he dared to call toes. Somehow Len managed to gather all the cold in them in the few steps he needed to the lightswitch and back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once the light was off, Len snuggled a bit closer, something he normally did when they were on good terms. Or knew he was in the wrong and wanted to apologize. If his enemies knew that the great Captain Cold solved his problems and tried to right his wrongs with </span>
  <em>
    <span>cuddles </span>
  </em>
  <span>he would never have been taken seriously anymore. Then again it was Len. People took him seriously with his damn puns and the ridiculous parka.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick tugged on the blankets and opened them up, not a tad bit surprised when Len took the opportunity to reach out and snuggle up like the octopus he really was. Mick turned enough to make it possible for Len to be more comfortable. He kissed the still  damp hair and smiled slightly when Len sighed and threw an arm over Mick’s chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thought you hate this safehouse.” He couldn’t help but tease a bit. What answered was silence for a moment before Len quietly answered. It tickled his skin but Mick endured it as long as he could feel Len being safe and mostly healthy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Knew you would be here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So he’d missed Mick. It made him smile a bit more. It was easier to smile and to talk in the dark of the night. Where they couldn’t see each other's reactions but could still read everything between the lines.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick grunted, glad that they were togethe randWith Len in a better mood than he’d had when they’d parted. They didn’t always talk about what had bothered the other one. Yet it was always better when they did. Easier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sadly neither of them liked to take it easy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is… is someone else coming too?” Len asked, throwing Mick off his thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? Lisa? No. She’s safe with that guy from STAR.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another moment of silence before Len started to talk again, innocent but still sounding like he just bit into a lemon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And what about that guy. Robbie something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That little shit. Len knew exactly what his name was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly it clicked. God. Lenny. How could such an intelligent man be so dumb when it came to something so important.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His name’s Ronnie.” Mick could feel Len tensing up and caressed his back with tender fingers. “He’s married to that cute Doctor that turns Frosty now and then. He wanna help with the next big barbeque.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sometimes did that, searching for help when it became too many people to care for. Rather search for more help than sending people away. It wasn’t about the money, most of it was founded by their heists and Ronnie certainly knew about that but didn’t care.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was pretty okay for a good guy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Mick shook his head, knowing that Len would feel it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think too much.” Mick gruffed. “If you think you’re going to get rid of me you have it coming.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He doesn’t pun.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s pretty lame.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He looks good.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pft. Pretty sure that he doesn’t even have matching scars.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He seemed to like fire?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. You do too when you eat the damn sugary abnormalities.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“S' mores.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Might be that he snores, but I like yours better. Like a kitten that took a sniff in flour.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Len muttered something Mick didn’t get and huffed scandalized. Of course, he’d only pretended that he’d misheard him but it was nice to get his partner from his ridiculous thoughts. Sometimes he really thought Mick would leave him because he was funny and witty and didn’t fit into normal beauty standards.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As if Mick ever cared about something like that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sleep now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Len grumbled but snuck even closer, Mick didn’t even know that it was possible anymore. But he didn’t complain and that was something Mick counted as a win. It didn’t take long for Len to finally fall asleep for good and soon Mick would follow, lulled into sleep by the steady and reassuring breathing of his partner, and his thoughts to cook and care for him as much as he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, some people hated the quarantine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But for them it was the perfect opportunity to be together with no one interrupting or interfering with any of their plans. They had time to talk (which they wouldn’t.), to watch some movies or plan some heists. Cook together. Make sure that Len stayed out of trouble and was fed enough, without running out on Mick like a headless chicken whenever his beautiful brain got something wrong.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They would have a great time together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Most people hated the quarantine.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Mick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mick loved it.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
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